(don't) put my heart to the side
by FanfictioningFangirl
Summary: "She takes the last few steps towards him, crashing into Peter, burying her head into his chest. He smells of sweat and blood and sewage — exactly the way you'd expect Spider-Man to. She never wants to let him go." Michelle stays up every night until Peter Parker comes home. Adult Spideychelle. Michelle POV.


**Title: (don't) put my heart to the side**

**Summary: "Michelle Jones will always remember the twilight of her life - the moments after the light had gone, but before she'd recognised its absence."** **From eight days after their marriage, to two years later. **

**Disclaimer: ****I am not associated with Marvel and make no profit from any of what I am posting.**

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**(don't) put my heart to the side**

_And I'm married to my pride, I ain't never, never cried_  
_I got eyes like marbles, if I cry they sparkle_  
_You know I can read your mind like I'm the author_  
_There's a line for tomorrow and that line's gettin' shorter_

**_i. Eight Days_**

Michelle is awake when the door opens.

The TV is still blaring in front of her, flashing pictures of the fire downtown and, occasionally, replaying a blurry video of Spider-Man swinging in to save the day. She's been watching it all evening while stress-eating her way through an extra large bar of chocolate, and she feels both gross and exhausted now.

She's up before the door clicks shut, and peeps nervously into the corridor as though she's scared it might not be him. (It is.)

Peter spots her at once, giving MJ an apologetic grin. His hair his windswept and messy, his mask dangles from one hand. He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, eyes refusing to leave hers.

For what seems like an eternity, they just stare.

Then something in her snaps and Michelle sprints across the corridor closing the gap between them. He smells of smoke and the same deodorant he's been using since high school, and he winces when she hugs him too tightly because of a bruise on his back.

They've only been married a week, Michelle thinks, pressing her lips against his, but Peter's already out there, continuing to save the world.

She wouldn't have had it any other way.

**_ii. Seventy-Three Days_**

Michelle knows something's wrong the moment he comes in.

There's a stiffness to the way he hugs her and when he smiles at Michelle, it doesn't quite reach his eyes. She stopped watching the news after the first few days, but Michelle suddenly wishes she knew what he was doing today — who he saved and, who he didn't.

She reaches up, flattening his hair, and Peter leans into her touch, coming closer and closer till his forehead is pressed against hers.

Michelle feels him shake under her. There's a tremble in his hands, and his breath is shaky. Peter Parker has been crying on her shoulder since they were sixteen. Today is no different. She holds him until Peter wants to talk; She helps him out of the suit, disinfects the fresh cuts adorning his upper body and, tucks him into bed.

"There was a boy," he says, at last, eyes glued to a spot on the ceiling. "He had this Spider-Man mask, and he looked so happy when he saw me, you know?"

He rakes his hands through his hair, his eyes flashing with emotion Michelle cannot read in the dimly lit room.

"Peter - "

"I killed his mother," Peter says at last.

"You couldn't save her and that's okay. You're only one - "

"No," he says. "No. I killed her. It was me. You weren't there, Em. You weren't there." He rolls away from her, body trembling with the effort to hold back a sob.

"I'm here for you now," she whispers, curling up against his back.

Two seconds later, when Peter flips over again, holding her close to him, Michelle wishes she could be there more often. She doesn't know what it's like to go out every night with the weight of the world on your shoulders, and in no way does she envy Peter's power or responsibility. She just wishes she could be there every time he needs her.

**_iii. Two-Hundred and Twelve Days_**

She's home later than usual, bag laden with books she picked up on the way home and her feet aching from a long day at work. At first, Michelle assumes she imagines the music from the kitchen. She's exhausted and sleep deprived and wants nothing more than to curl up in bed and read till Peter gets home.

She drops her bag in the living room, washes her face and steps into the kitchen to grab a bite.

She almost screams when she spots Peter, back towards her and waving around a spatula as he sings along to whatever-the-fuck he's listening to.

"Pete?" Michelle says.

He turns around, grins at her and before she has time to protest, he's wrapped a hand around her waist and pulled Michelle flush against him. She laughs when he spins her around the kitchen, but, more importantly, she changes the music when Peter gets distracted with his spaghetti.

It's been an age since Peter came home early, and there's no knowing when he'll come back early next. The least she can do is make sure he listens to, you know, _real music_ while they're together.

_**iv.** **Three-Hundred and Twenty-Six Days**_

Michelle wakes up when the door opens.

She's still on the sofa, an empty cup of tea on the table next to her and the book she'd been reading lying on the floor. She bends down, picking it up and sticking her tongue out at the folds in the pages. A glance at the clock tells her it's nearly four in the morning, later than Peter usually comes home, and she wonders what he got himself into today.

It takes a moment for her to realise that Peter hasn't said a word yet.

"Pete?" Michelle calls, standing up. "Peter?"

The lights are on, just as she'd left them, but the door locked and the house empty. She's not entirely sure Peter came back. There's a good chance, Michelle thinks, that she dreamt of him coming home.

She pulls out her phone, opens the news. There's a headline about Spider-Man fighting a villain from a few hours ago, but nothing's come up since.

Michelle frowns now, something akin to panic seeping into her head. She dials his number, but: Nothing.

Michelle tries again. Once. Twice. Thrice. She's no longer sleepy: her heart hammers against her chest, and there's a dull throb at the back of her head.

She runs upstairs, taking the stairs two at a time, hoping that for some reason Peter went straight upstairs and collapsed in bed. That his phone is on silent because he forgot to turn the volume off. That there's a reasonable explanation for all of this.

But their bedroom is eerily silent, and Peter is still missing.

_Breathe_, Michelle tells herself. They've planned for days when he doesn't come home. She can track his phone, and there's a first aid kit under the bed. She's got this.

_They've_ got this.

Peter's going to come home tonight. Michelle isn't going to lose him just yet.

She finds him behind a rundown burger joint, lying face down and barely breathing. Michelle doesn't know how she drags him back to the car, or up the stairs when they get home. She only remembers the fear that had clenched her heart until Peter's eyes finally fluttered open hours later.

**_v. Three-Hundred and Ninety-Four Days_**

Michelle's awake when the door flies open around three am, and the numbing fear that has clutched her heart all evening finally fades away. She's been feeling uneasy all evening and, a small part of her hopes that Peter's return will fix that. He's still in the hallway, struggling with his boots, mask in one hand and hair standing up at odd angles.

He looks up, a little breathless from work, and, when he sees her, a smile flits across Peter Parker's face.

"Hey," he says softly.

His nose is crooked (broken) again, and his eye is puffy and swollen. He looks like a mess, but then again, he always does. It's part of the job description.

"Hey," Michelle replies. She takes the last few steps towards him, crashing into Peter, burying her head into his chest. He smells of sweat and blood and like he's been running around the sewers. He smells exactly the way you'd expect Spider-Man to. She never wants to let him go.

There are days, like today, when there's a sinking feeling in her stomach, when everything feels wrong and twisted. She'd almost feared that Peter wasn't going to come home tonight and, holding onto him feels like the only way to keep Peter from disappearing.

If the world is going to try and steal Peter Parker away from her, Michelle thinks, closing her eyes, she wants to be taken with him.

**_vi. Four-Hundred and Five Days_**

Michelle Jones will always remember the twilight of her life - the moments after the light had gone, but before she'd recognised its absence.

She knows something is wrong the moment she hears the knock on the door. Peter hasn't knocked in a million years and, though she knows it's early enough for the knocking to be something as trivial as their neighbour asking for sugar, each step she takes towards the door amplifies the dread in her veins.

There are two policemen on the porch, hats off and heads bowed.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am," the first says, and Michelle almost wishes he wouldn't continue.

The world mourns for Spider-Man. There are marches and ceremonies held in his memory. His name has become a constant in the streets of Queens, being whispered amongst children and adults alike. Sometimes it's easy to forget that he wasn't just her hero — that he was truly making a difference out there each night he spent away from home.

The world mourns for Spider-Man, but, wandering down the streets and staring and flashing images of the man she's known since she was a girl, Michelle feels alone in mourning for Peter Parker.

_**vii. Seven-Hundred and Thirty Days**_

Michelle Jones fell in love with Peter Parker the first time he answered every damn question in decathlon practice, back when his voice would crack regularly and he hadn't fully understood the weight of his newfound powers and responsibilities. She doesn't remember life before Peter Parker and there are days when life after sucks. There are days when she wants to curl up in bed and cry from dawn to dusk, and there are days when she wonders if she could have done something (anything) to keep Peter from leaving that night. Sometimes she cries at work, locking herself in the loo and bawling her eyes out, on other days she visits Ned, or May and tries to remember the good in his life.

When Peter Parker dies, he takes the light in her life with him and, every day after he goes feels as though she's aimlessly wandering in the dark.

Michelle Jones fell in love with Peter Parker when she was sixteen, and she continues to love him for years after he's gone.

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**Yes there's parallels to Spider-Verse. I loved the movie so damn much and just HAD to parallel Peter and MJ to Peter and Michelle****.**

**Fact: I cried multiple times in Spider-Verse because it was beautiful and I cried the first time I tried writing this and I just have a lot of feelings about Peter Parker/ Spider-Man in general. I may, or may not, be thinking of writing something for Peter B. Parker and MJ in the near future but lets see how that goes.**

**As always, thanks for reading and please do leave a review (even if it is just you freaking out about Spider-Verse) ! They always make my day!**

**OR**

**Find me on Tumblr: WizardingAesthetics**


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